Page 26 of The Forever Match

She was getting married, and she was happy to be there. She might as well give them what they wanted.

What was it they said? Fake it ‘til you make it?

Ash took a deep breath, then gave Cam a broad smile. “Born ready.”

Somewhere beyond the Palace gates, a cheer rolled through the air like distant thunder.

Then the bridal march struck up.

This was it.

Holy fucking shit.

A ripple of excitement surged through the marquee. Victoria had clearly arrived, but Ash was going to be the last to see her. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, pulling her shoulders back, standing tall.

When she opened her eyes and turned, Ash truly wasn’t prepared for Victoria. It wasn’t just how regal and beautiful she looked, floating along in an acre of white satin. It was also the slight stutter in her walk as she took the final three steps. So small, nobody else would notice. The moment their eyes met. Victoria’s quick blink that told Ash she wasn’t the only one who was bricking it.

But also, that just like Ash, there was no place she’d rather be.

Victoria kissed her dad, then gave her flowers to her lone bridesmaid, Astrid, a streak of lemon and pearls.

Then Ash stepped beside Victoria, took her hand, and kissed her knuckle.

The swoon from outside was definitely audible this time. Ash’s heart boomed so hard, she wondered if the TV cameras had picked it up.

“You look incredible, Ma’am,” she whispered in Victoria’s ear, breathing in her scent, wanting to stop time right there. “And your walk was perfect. Extraordinary composure under pressure.”

That made Victoria beam. “You look drop-dead gorgeous,” she whispered.

In the lead-up to today, Ash had been a mess of contradictions. Worried about this being too big, too grand, but wanting to give Victoria everything she desired. Concerned they’d pushed the monarchy and the country too far, but also wanting to change society for the better.

But now, stood beside the love of her life, none of that mattered. This part really was about the two of them, and their families. But mostly, their vows, their love, their promises.

Their wedding day.

Ash squeezed Victoria’s hand and knew with bone-deep certainty it was all going to be okay.

They turned to Moira, who was clad in soothing beige once more, but today she’d paired it with three strings of beads that clacked loudly when she waved her hands. Moira was demonstrative, and the constant sound eased any tension Ash was feeling.

The vows flew by in a blur of promises.

To be faithful, and to love you always.

To bring you tea even when you’re grumpy.

To call when I’m running late.

To not do keepy-uppies in the house.

To listen to your worries, and not always try to fix them.

To never, ever, call it ‘just a game.’

To always be by your side.

Then came the rings.

Victoria took Ash’s left hand, and Ash felt it: that quiet, deliberate pressure of someone holding her like she was something precious. Victoria’s own hand trembled too, and that undid Ash more than anything else had all day.